Reminiscence
by abstrusewriter
Summary: Harry loses his memory, leaving him unable to remember those closest to him. Hermione thinks it might be best for him to go to Forks, Washington to stay with her Uncle and younger Cousin. There, he meets Edward Cullen. Full Summary Inside/Slash/EC/HP/AU
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Neither Twilight/HP are mine, I take no ownership of them.

Summary: Harry loses his memory, leaving him unable to remember those closest to him. After a year of recovery the ministry/healers decide he might be ready to face the outside world. With the help of Hermione and Ron he starts to remember. They decide that in order to get away from the press and unneeded attention that moving to America wasn't such a bad idea. Left with no magic due to the severe events causing him to forget his past, he embarks in a muggle life in Forks, WA. There he meets Edward Cullen, a vampire who is insistent on becoming _acquaintances. _Slash, Edward/Harry, rated T.

Reminiscence

**Death**—is the term used to describe the cessation of all biological functions that sustain a living organism.

_So why does it always seem so much more complicated than it truly is…?_

Hermione Granger walked hastily down the hall of St. Mungo's; she couldn't place her current fear that spread from the center of her body and through the tips of her limbs. Cher hair bounced, the speed of her steps hurrying as she ran to where she spotted her fiancé waiting for her. He was talking with one of the healers; the look on his face was enough to make Hermione realize the severity of the situation.

"'Mione, it's Harry, he's—" the hug took him by surprise, but he wrapped his arms around his soon to be wife nonetheless, and waited for her to calm her breathing before he went on to explain, "the healer said he's not in good condition, he got into a nasty fight with Markus Cordele,"

Markus Cordele, the dark wizard they'd been tracking down for months. Hermione pulled back to look at Ron, "What happened with Cordele then, has he been taken into custody. Ron, _please_ tell me we didn't get away,"

"Hermione," Ron whispered looking into his fiancée's eyes seriously, "I'm sorry, but we don't know where Cordele is, he got away—but we know he's injured so that should slow him down at least. The department sent Ginny and her team after him,"

Auror Granger gave a disappointed sigh but then nodded in understanding. Feeling as though her legs could no longer keep her up she sat down on one of the waiting chairs just outside of the room that she assumed had been Harry's, "What's his current condition?"

"Not good," the red head answered softly, sitting beside the brunette, "they think he's been hit with a strong memory curse, they're not sure if it was _Obliviate_ or not, but he doesn't remember a thing and the chances of him actually getting his memory back are pretty slim,"

"He doesn't remember anything?" Hermione asked in horror, the notion that her best friend wouldn't remember her or their shared adventures cause her chest to clench in hurt, "Other than that… is he… is he okay then?"

The hesitant look Ron gave her only made her eyes water and fill up with salty tears, she raised her voice and demanded for an answer, what he answer with only added to the woman's dismay, "'Mione… he's lost all traces of his magic, he's unresponsive to it,"

"So he can't use his magic, he can't cast spells or use his wand…?"

A nod confirmed her uncertainties, "He's practically a muggle now, or maybe a squib. They said they'll have to keep him here until they see any sign of recovery, and if he doesn't recover he'll become a permanent patient. They can't let him into the public in fear that he might have breakdowns that could result in the harm of himself or others. He can go into shock,"

"But… Ron, that's our best friend, he doesn't belong here, we can't…" Hermione had to stop speaking so her hoarse and broken voice wouldn't become noticeable, "there has to be something we can do, something that can fix him,"

"No Hermione," the red head's risen voice startled the female auror, and once he realised that he raised his voice to the woman he loved her instantly grabbed her hands and held them in his own, "they tried everything, and the rest is up to Harry. They said we can do certain tests and try to spark his memory… but the chances in him making a full recovery aren't high,"

Hermione jerked her hands away from Ron, looking at him in a form of betrayal, "Well, I'm not going to sit around and watch my best friend wallow away to nothing. I'm going to help him the best I can. I'm not going to let him become insane behind four walls that serve as a form of… of… confinement,"

"You think I like the idea of my best friend becoming a prisoner in this bloody hospital as much as you do? But there isn't anything we can do, Hermione, there's nothing except our support and patience that can help Harry regain his memory," there was a long pause between the two.

"Even so, doing these _tests_ that you say could spark his memory isn't going to work while he's stuck in an unfamiliar place. We can't sit around and wait for something that might not even happen," Hermione looked to her future husband with a pleading look, "Ronald we have to fight this, we can't have him locked away in here forever, he'll just become like the Longbottoms, becoming even more unstable the longer they're here,"

"That's not true, 'Mione, St. Mungo's is a good place as any for Harry to be safe, and didn't you hear me when I explain that the outside world can throw him into shock? We need to take one step at a time," Ron stood now, looking down at his intended bride, "Right now I want to focus on catching Cordele, there's nothing we can do _here_ for Harry right now,"

Hermione crossed her arms in defiance and stood up as well, "Fine, let's head down to the department and get in contact with Ginny and see if she's found anything vital yet,"

_**One year later**_,

"I'm a bit nervous," Harry said sheepishly to his best friend that, to him, he's only known for a year now, "I've only been able to see through pictures and the way you guys explain it—I'm scared that it's going to be too much to handle,"

Hermione giggled, hugging her friend in the room he'd been given to stay in while he spent a year in the hospital, "You'll be fine, try not to worry about it too much. It's really great; some of the people are nice and charming,"

"I hope you're right," Harry said, "what do you think people will think… about me being released,"

His was explained countless times that he was a victim of memory loss, and after getting through the denial and arguments he accepted this and allowed his friends to explain his past life—when he _could_ remember. Apparently he had been rather famous, looked at as a sort of hero for killing a man called Voldemort. It was all a bit much to handle at first, but he managed is after a lot of late nights of thoughtful insomnia.

"Well," Hermione smiled and pulled away from the hug, "rumors have already hit the papers, so it won't be much of a surprise; we'll have to be quick on our way to the car… so we don't attract paparazzi or unwanted cameras,"

Grabbing the only suitcase to on his possession, he smiled and motioned for Hermione to exit the room, "ladies first,"

It was mess, to say the least, when they exited the large doors of the wizard hospital. Crowds of people surrounded the two aurors and flashes caused Harry to squint his eyes (which had been corrected during his stay, he no longer had to wear those blasted glasses). Hermione scowled and did her best to shoo the strangers away as they headed to the muggle vehicle.

Hermione ushered her best friend to the passenger side of the vehicle and helped him in, showing him how to use the seatbelt and such before she shut his door and glared at the circle of people surrounding the car. She rounded the front and climbed in to the driver's side. She turned the key to start the engine and beeped the horn in a fit of frustration at the wizards that were smothering her car. They jumped and cursed at her, moving from the way and letting the two aurors drive away from the hospital.

"I'm sorry, Harry, I didn't realize there would be so many people," she told him honestly, looking pleading to her friend for forgiveness and adverted her eyes back to the road so she wouldn't cause an accident.

Harry smiled widely, "no worries! I thought they were all amusing, it's not every day you get to see so many people at once, you know? The most people I've seen in one day had been you, Ron, Neville, Ginny, and the healers. I told you not to worry about me when I was finally released; I'm going to be fine,"

Hermione smiled thankfully, "Alright, but I can't help but worry about you because you're my best friend. So what do you think about it so far?"

"The feeling of freedom is fantastic, I've been outside loads of time in the court yard," Harry went on to explain, some of the patients were allowed to roam the courtyard and certain parts of the hospital for fresh air or entertainment, "but being outside with the free will to do whatever I please is fantastic. I never thought the outside world would be so big,"

"You haven't even seen the half of it," Hermione exclaimed.

Harry beamed, "So where are we going, anyway?"

"I'm taking you back to your house," Hermione answered, turning the car down another road, "We can't let you stay by yourself, but we're having a few of our friends come over for a _reunion_ if you will,"

Once they arrived to 12, Grimmauld Place, Hermione helped Harry from the car and they entered the home that Harry was explained had been left to him by his deceased Godfather, and though Harry couldn't remember he knew that Sirius Black was once special to him and it gave him an uneasy feeling. Nervousness flooded his body as he traveled down the corridor-hall and approached another door that would subsequently lead into the actual home.

"Are you alright, Harry?" asked the brunette woman beside him, and he was brought from the uneasy thoughts that were floating through his mind, "you look anxious, everything's going to be fine, these people are your friends,"

"Yeah," Harry nodded in agreement, "let's do this,"

The door opened and Harry stepped in, Hermione close behind with a knowing smile. She reached for her wand and whispered a spell so that the lights in the home would turn on and the home would illuminate so that they could see. Just as the lights turned on Harry's eyes widened and he stumbled back at the amount of people waiting there for him, screaming 'surprise'.

A poster that looked like it had been drawn by a five year old floated magically above his 'friends', and had said 'welcome home, Uncle Harry'. Harry wondered for a few moments but then remembered that he had been named Godfather of Remus Lupin's son, who had frequently called him 'Uncle Harry'.

Social anxiety bubbled into the pit of his stomach and if he were given the chance he'd run to the nearest bathroom and vomit all of the squeamish feelings he had about his current situation. There were so many people, so many unfamiliar faces that he _should_ know, that he _don't_ know. The amount of people had been unexpected, he originally planned on seeing Ron, Ginny, Neville, and Luna- but no one else.

The crowd advanced on him, there was a woman holding a teal haired toddler, he assumed it must have been Teddy. There were countless red heads, he tried to put names with faces, and his current memory tried to remember all of the people Ron and Hermione told him about, but nothing was coming up. Fear and tenseness submerged him as the crowd of strangers began talking to him, each talking at the same time, updating him on their lives and asking about his.

It was too much, and an overwhelming feeling took Harry by surprise, he backed away shaking his head. He didn't like this; he didn't like being looked at by a large group of people that seemed to know him more than he knew himself. He felt naked and spied on, he felt invaded of privacy, a privacy he became fond of during his stay at St. Mungo's.

"Harry," a voice interrupted his thoughts, probably the only voice he could recognize out of the entirety of people ambushing him, "Harry, are you alright? Harry! What's wrong?"

"Hermione?" Harry asked, his vision blurring as black spots embedded into his sight, "Hermione, I don't feel so good…" and to add to his embarrassed and uneasy state, the man hunched over and threw-up all over the wooden floor of the Black Manor, it splatter onto the shoes of the people who claimed to know him, and they all shrieked and jumped away from the acid pouring from the ex-aurors body.

"Harry!" emerald eyes crossed and then closed, thankfully he felt the familiar embrace of his other best friend, Ronald Weasley, and was caught before he fell to the floor into his own waste. Darkness surrounded him and he was no longer burdened with the group of demanding people in his home.

When he came back around he woke to an unfamiliar ceiling and the comfort of a tattered and old-smelling sofa, a wool blanket that made his skin crawl with an itching feeling was draped over his body, and a warmly damp cloth was placed over his forehead (which it fell from when he groaned and sat up). He remembered the previous events and looked around the home (currently living room) that he was in. 12, Grimmauld Place.

"Harry, you're up, thank Merlin!" he could hear Hermione's voice from beside him and glanced with his eyes to the worried-stricken female. She wrapped her arms around him and with a piteous voice said, "I am so sorry, I didn't realize it would have been too much for you, I should have waited a little bit before introducing you to everyone so quickly. Oh god, can you ever forgive me?"

"Calm down Hermione," Harry replied delicately, he pulled from Hermione and gave her a smile to prove his truthfulness, "I'm alright now, it was just a bit _too_ much, but nothing to beat yourself up over. I'm fine, everything is fine. Thank-you, for trying to throw me a welcome-back party though, that was very thoughtful,"

"I don't deserve your friendship," Hermione joked while shaking her head with a breathy laugh, "Ron and I were about to take you back to St. Mungo's. You've been out for two days; you went into a bit of a shock. I feel stupid for rushing things like that, the healers even told us not to do that, but I'm hardheaded and always think I'm right,"

A joyous and amused laugh erupted from Harry, who in return clutched his head and grunted. Hermione's eyes widened and she murmured something as she rummaged through her bag and pulled out a small vile, "Here, if you drink this you'll feel better. Your head is trying to catch up with the rest of your body,"

"Thanks," he breathed as he gently took the vile and popped the lid off, drinking its contents a bit greedily so that the pounding feeling in his head would go away, once he was done he used to sleeve of his shirt to rid his lips of excess content and laid back down against the arm of the sofa, "that works wonders, 'Mione,"

She smiled thankfully; she'd made the potion herself last night. Silence fell upon them, Hermione leaned back on her heals to get a better look at Harry, she sat back and took a seat in the just as tattered and old chair diagonal from the couch, "Harry… Ron and I were talking about a few things,"

"Like what?" Harry asked happily, wondering what the newlyweds had been thinking of doing this time, "Are you going on another honeymoon…?"

"No," she shook her head, "nothing like that. We were just thinking that maybe it's a bit too soon for you to be—"

"You don't think I'm ready for the public?" Harry instantly sat up, a sneer on his face as he glared incredulously at his 'best friend', "You want to send me back to that… that prison? It isn't my fault that you decided to go out and throw a bloody party!"

"That isn't what I mean… Harry! We don't want you to go back to St. Mungo's as much as you don't, but if it's too early in your treatment it might be for the better. You're overwhelmed by the amount of pressure placed on to you, because of the fact that you're Harry Potter, not only that but you're not ready to deal with people that _know_ you, your _friends_,"

"Maybe that's because those _friends_ know more about me than I know about myself, and I haven't got a damn clue about a single one of them," he snapped, "can you imagine that, Hermione, can you imagine living with something like that? Being the only one who doesn't know who you are, seeing everyone as a stranger when they look at you as if they've known you your whole life?"

A frown graced the lips of the intelligent witch, "I can't imagine, _no_. But Harry, if you continue to go into shock-episodes, you're a threat to yourself and those around you. Ron and I don't want to see you get hurt,"

"I am _not_ going back to St. Mungo's, forget that," Harry pointed, "and you're not going to force me, either,"

"I don't want you to go back to St. Mungo's, Harry, but this isn't a safe environment for you either," Hermione tried to explain, tried to make sense for her friend, but nothing seemed to work for her, he was as stubborn as he was before he lost his memory.

Harry scoffed and rolled his eyes, "and where to you presume will be a better _environment_ for me to be…?" suddenly an idea came to Harry's mind, "It would be nice to be in an environment where I don't know anything about the people there and they don't know anything about me. Maybe then I wouldn't feel so much stress,"

"…" there was a moment of stillness, then something clicked, "that's a brilliant idea, Harry!"

Watching the witch stand from the chair and gather her things in a rush made Harry raise an eyebrow in astonishment and bemusement, "Hermione… Hermione, where are you going? Hermione!"

She turned from the door where she was leaving, she was smiling to her best friend, "I've got a few things to ask St. Mungo's, and I have a family member to contact. But hey, you stay here and get a bit of rest. Don't worry, Harry, I've got an idea, I'm going to fix things."

"O—" he was cut off by the door slamming, "kay," he finished in the silence of _his_ own house.

ooOoo

Hermione Granger spent the next week making hundreds of phone calls, sending various letters, having meetings with a few healers, taking time off from her current case, speaking with the ministry, and checking in on Harry as much as she could each day to be sure that he was doing alright on his own for the short time that he wasn't accompanied by her or Ron.

Everything was falling under her favor, most legal documents were agreed to and signed by Harry's legal caregiver (Hermione), and were stamped with approval from both St. Mungo and the Ministry. The last thing Hermione needed to do was find a muggle telephone and get in contact with her distant relatives in America. At first she contemplated whether or not she wanted to do something so bold, something so risky—but with the support of both her husband and Harry, things weren't that bad.

America wasn't too far, and Harry said he would be okay as long as he wouldn't be left alone and without help. Hermione suggested that a 'vacation' to the States would do a deal of greatness and help Harry with fixing his social skills by meeting new people who hadn't had a clue about his identity or who he was. Not to mention there weren't any magical people anywhere near where he would be going, so he'd fit in with the muggles since his magic was no longer active; but instead dormant and unusable.

Hermione gingerly grabbed the phone attached by a cord in the phone booth, she was raised by non-magical parents so she knew how things in the muggle world worked, and she was smart enough to figure it out anyway. She pressed a few buttons, entered muggle money into the telephone and dialed the number that she was able to bury up from intense digging of American records. A familiar ringing noise entered her ears.

She breathed, unable to speak when a voice echoed through the receiving end, "Chief Swan,"

"U-uncle Charlie?" it had been such a long time since she visited her distant cousins, so long that she hadn't even known that she was a wizard when her parents took her on vacation for the Christmas holidays and they had a family gathering. She could hardly put a face with the voice on the other end, "Sorry, sir, this is… Hermione Weasley—I mean, Hermione Granger,"

"Hermione?" the voice asked in slightly taken aback tone, "as in my older sister's daughter Hermione?"

Hermione swallowed, "Yes sir, I'm sorry for not getting in touch with you sooner,"

"That's fine, I'm just glad you've actually decided to do so, what can I help you with…?" the voice seemed to surprised but eagerly excited at the same time, and it only made Hermione feel a bit guilty for semi-using the man after losing contact for such a long time.

"Sir," Hermione began nervously, "I need your help, U-Uncle Charlie… with a friend. I'm sorry for calling so abruptly and for such a reason but I truly do need your help, _desperately,_"

"You're family; of course I'd help you with anything I can. What's the issue with your friend?"

A long and readying sigh came from the witch, "Sir—"

"No need to call me sir, that makes me sound more intimidating than I need to be," the voice sounded friendly, almost as if Hermione could see the man smiling, "but please, continue,"

"Well, you see, one year ago my friend had an accident that damaged his brain," she tried to think of ways to explain it to a muggle so it wouldn't be suspicious, she ignored the 'I'm sorry' that came from her uncle, "he's fine now, he just suffers from extreme memory loss—and being surrounded by things that are familiar with him but not the other way around are proving difficult,"

She paused and waited for a response to see what the man thought so far, he broke the silence with, "I understand, was he previously institutionalized for recovery?"

"Yes, he was just released not the long ago, but he's undergone an episode of shock that would usually require another six months of recovery—since it were proof that he wasn't prepared for the outside world yet," she took a breath from that long explanation, "I tried to urge him back into the therapy system here in London, sir, but it's proving difficult. The facility tears him down and causes him to turn off… if you get what I mean,"

She didn't want to go into detail on how corrupt St. Mungo's had been, so she generalized it as much as she could and waited for another reply, he gave her one, "How would you like me to help…?"

"Well," she swallowed once more, apprehension clogging her airway, "I think as a substitute form of recuperation that he be surrounded by new things that wouldn't be so familiar with him, so it wouldn't cause him the stress of being something he isn't accustomed with. I don't want to bore you with technicalities and paper work, but to shorten things he needs to be around things that see him as a stranger so he won't feel like he needs to influence himself. It's terrifying for him, sir, to see hundreds of people who know him, but he doesn't know them in return. It puts an incredible amount of pressure on him, and that only adds to the stress that he's already been blessed with,"

"I understand," said Chief Swan, "I'll do whatever it is you feel I can do to help you, I'm assuming that you're thinking about having him more somewhere else, and since you've called me I'm also assuming that you want him to maybe- possibly move to America,"

Wow, the man hit it right on the nail, but then again the witch left enough clues in her long explanation that it wouldn't be hard for someone to put two-and-two together, "I hate doing this to you, knowing that we haven't exactly seen each other since I was about four, but I really need a favor. You're the only relative I've got, and Harry needs seclusion from this place for a bit… not that long, but for a while,"

"I live with my daughter, she's just moved in. She's sixteen and starting her sophomore year, but I have a guest bedroom if you're thinking of moving him here, I don't know how I feel about accepting a stranger into my home but if what you're saying is all true, I trust you enough. I'll need to talk to Bella about it before I give you a definite answer,"

"Thank-you, U-uncle Charlie, this means everything to me," Hermione told him earnestly.

"Of course, do you have a number I can reach you at when I have my answer?"

Trying to think of a way to reply, she shrugged, "No. But I can call you this coming Friday, that gives you a week to think about it and talk with Bella. How does that sound, sir?"

"I told you not to call me sir," replied the man with a chuckle, "and that's plenty of time. I'll talk to you soon, alright Hermione?"

"Yes, Uncle Charlie, have a great week, sir," and she giggled when she said the last bit, "Sorry, it's kind of hard to break habits, goodbye,"

"Goodbye,"

The line beeped and went dead. Hermione gave a relieved and accomplished sigh as she placed the phone back onto hits handle and exited the phone booth, "That wasn't so hard; I should probably go check on Harry now,"

Friday came sooner than wanted, and with a dreadful hand Hermione grabbed the telephone once more and help it up to her ear and dialed the number that belonged to her American uncle, it rang a few times and finally a voice entered her ears—a familiar voice, "Hermione?"

"Yes," she breathed, "I'm calling about your decision, sir,"

There was an agonizingly long pause, and Hermione braced herself for bed news, braced herself to be told her last resort of getting Harry's happiness back gone, but when she heard the words: "We've decided that we'd love to have your friend come stay with us, Bella said she'd be glad to help the man,"

"T-thank," she had to stop talking to hide her astonishment and nearly broken voice that betrayed her. She took a breath and composed herself, "Thank you so much for this, you don't know how grateful I am, you're forever in my debt,"

"Oh no, don't worry about things like that… w-we're family, things like that shouldn't matter,"

Trying her hardest not to squeal and cry at the same time, in the happiness and liberation that her last hope came through and her Uncle had accepted her offer, "you've done the greatest thing anyone could ever do for him, and you do realize that right? This means everything to both my husband and I, we truly can't thank you enough,"

"Don't mention it," chuckled the man, "It's nothing really. When do you plan on sending him over to the States?"

"I'll need to by a mugg-" she almost said _'muggle plane ticket'_, but quickly saved herself, "I'll need to invest in his plane ticket and needed things for the trip and stay, but the sooner we get him into a stable environment the better. This wasn't hard to me to arrange, hospitals don't usually condone that we take memory loss patients and move them to unfamiliar habitats, but Harry told me that it would be much better for him. Is there a certain date that would be best for you to have him show?"

"I'll need to prepare his room and get furniture for him, but any time will be good for me, as long as he's okay with it and he isn't going to cause harm onto my family I don't care when he arrives," it was so honest that Hermione had to blink for a moment to reply,

"Within two weeks, how does that sound for you?"

There was yet again another second of silence, "Sounds perfect,"

ooOoo

"Hermione, I can't thank you enough for doing this," Harry said just before he entered the terminal and onto the muggle airplane that he would be riding on to get across the ocean and to America. It was nervous, more nervous than any normal person during their first flight, he fretfully laughed, and said, "I'm starting to get second thoughts,"

His best friend simply laughed at his confession, "Don't worry so much, Harry, I promise you everything is going to be fine. I've flown before, the flight attendants are charming and I've already spoke to them about your situation, if you ever need anything you ask them alright? Charlie will meet you at the airport in Port Angeles and from there you'll go to Forks, were your temporary home will be for a bit,"

Harry clung to Hermione as if he never wanted to let go, embracing her tightly not caring if he were cutting off the woman's oxygen. He held onto her, grasping at her clothes and shaking in uneasiness, "thank you so much, you're my best friend,"

"Oi, and what about me!" Ron piped from beside the two of them, which caused Harry to laugh and throw his arm around the redhead auror and pull him into a group hug with him and Hermione.

"You both… are my best friends. Thank you so much for helping me; I'd be nothing without you,"

Ron and Hermione smile a bit sadly at their friend when he pulled away and headed to the plane, dragging his wheeled suitcase behind him and waving at them with a sheepish smile.

When he was out of sight both Ron and Hermione knew that somewhere along the way of this long journey they had lost their best friend. The past Harry and the present Harry were two different beings, in a sense, and though they were in the middle of a muggle airport, Hermione couldn't help but turn and clutch onto her husband, tears softly dripping down her face and onto his coat. He ran his hands down his hair, giving a sigh and frowning.

Their best friend was gone; at least, they believe so. What they don't know is that the Harry James Potter they once knew was still there—he just needs a bit of a push to come back. A new life was beginning for all of them, but some things _never_ truly change…

* * *

_I think this is my favourite story that I've started yet. I think it has a lot of potential behind it, and I can't wait to begin writing the next chapter (I think I'm going to actually begin on it right away, so a fast update is to be looked forward to new readers)! I hope you like the approach of this, and the next chapter will be interestingly amusing. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed and will be looking forward to the next chapter of this new story (my other stories are not abandoned, don't worry!). Please give me feedback on what your opinions are. By the way, we haven't seen the last of Markus Cordele, that's just a hint into the future. x  
_


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank-you for the 15+ reviews on just the first chapter, I am honestly grateful, you're all so damn amazing I wish I could hug you—but I can't so you will all receive virtual hugs! Let's all give a round of a cheer for virtual hugs! –hugs-**

To address a review I received (I messaged the reviewer, it was a terrible debate and I'd rather not relive it) by **dhh**, I'm want to avoid further confusion in saying that everything she wrote in her review is false (please go read it, so I won't need to explain). Harry is not weak or pathetic in this story, I can promise you that I will make that very evident. I also want to quickly explain that neither Ron nor Hermione are trying to get rid of/hurt Harry in anyway, and have no stolen his 'inheritance'. I know, I know, I never wrote any of that, but this reviewers simply assumed and took things out of complex (I called her out on it, so no worries). Her PM's pretty much involves calling Hermione a "whore bitch" and Ron a "ass" the whole time, but LOL, no problems anymore.

Also, I will be explaining a few things that came up in a review (regarding everyone's age, and Harry's appearance) in this chapter so that others who might have the same questions will be answered. I thank all of you (minus that single review) for your wonderful feedback, and I hope you all enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it—please have a wonderful night/day, and don't be afraid to give me your opinions!

May take offers for a Beta, if anyone may be interested… I'm unsure of it though because I haven't grasped the complete understanding of a Beta and I'm a bit nervous… HAHA!

Reminiscence

In psychology, **memory** is the processes by which information is encoded, stored, and retrieved.

_So why can't I remember anything, if it's all still there, stored and encoded…?_

Harry was glad to have gotten off the airplane, his back had ached and the man sitting beside him hadn't been pleasant company. It had been such a long flight, and since he had been at the airport in Port Angeles, there was still at least a two hour drive to his new home in Forks, Washington.

Grabbing his luggage and making his way out from the airport, Harry felt completely unfamiliar with his surroundings, and it felt fantastic. Not that it didn't make him feel nervous, because it made him feel extremely nervous—but he felt as if he didn't need to meet anyone's expectations. Smiling to himself, he tucked a piece of his short and ruffled hair behind his ear and nervously stood at the pick-up section, waiting for anyone who could even slightly be Charlie or Bella Swan.

There was a tap on his shoulder, which made him spin around and stare at the woman with alarm.

"You're Harry, right?" asked the brunette, and Harry nodded as his reply, "I'm Bella Swan, I'm here to pick you up. It's nice to meet you,"

She seemed a bit awkward, her voice stale and void of any excitement, but Harry found it comforting and smiled kindly to the teenager. He replied, "It's nice to meet you too, where's your dad?"

"He had some business to take care of at the station, so he sent me to come and fetch you," her accent had been so strange compared to the accents he had been used to back in London, but he had to admit it hadn't been _that_ bad, "My truck's just over here, c'mon,"

Harry nodded, following closely behind her in silence as he wheeled his only suitcase. He had it charmed, so more than what appeared had been stuffed into the dark green luggage. When she approached a rather old and tattered looking truck, Harry had to keep himself from snorting in amusement, it looked as if it were about to collapse on itself. He allowed Bella to take his suitcase and place it in the back, and then motioned for him to climb into the passenger seat.

"It isn't much, I know," she explained as she herself climbed into the squeaking vehicle, "but my best friend fixed it up for me, and it gets me places. It's the best present I ever got,"

The slightly short wizard gave her a smile and said, "It doesn't matter whether it's new or old, it has sentimental value. I'm actually jealous; I haven't got the memory to have anything sentimental,"

It had brought up an extremely uncomfortable feeling throughout the truck, and Bella drove from the airport and began her long drive back to Forks, she replied to him, "Well, you can find new things to be sentimental. You'll see, it isn't that hard if you know how to enjoy the little things,"

"Yeah." Agreed Harry blandly, "so, is this place always so gloomy?"

This made Bella laugh, and that gave Harry a very warm feeling inside—but he didn't know/understand how to explain it so he quickly ignored it, "Sadly. You learn to love it though; you never know what the rain might bring,"

"London is the same, most people cherish the days when it's sunny,"

It was small talk, but enough for them to become familiar with each other. The two hour drive was spent talking about the Swan's neighbors, Bella's best friends, what high school had been like. Because Harry suffered from memory loss, he really didn't have much to share with the teenager, but listening never hurt.

When they pulled up to the small home, Harry would admit that it hadn't been the most attractive house, but it looked friendly and reassuring and that was enough for him. "I used to live with my mom, but I recently moved in with my dad. It isn't much, but its home."

"I think it's brilliant," he said in awe, and opened the squealing truck's door and climbed out. He grabbed his suitcase from the back and dragged it up to the house where Bella was focusing on unlocking the front door.

When she managed to unlock it, she turned to Harry allowing him to go in first. Her eyes glanced down to Harry's only luggage "Is that all you brought… or are you having other things shipped out?"

"No, this is all I brought. It's enough, _trust me,_" when he stepped into the home he was even more delighted. It hadn't given off that pompous feeling, but instead a welcoming impression that left him feeling excited to be living here with the small family. The wooden floors shined, though they hadn't been completely flawless. The walls were painted a mutual colour, but there were smudges here and there that made it just as imperfect as the floors. And though there had been inadequacies throughout the home, to Harry it had been closer to perfect than anything else he could imagine.

Bella came up beside him, also looking at the interior of the house, "Once again, it isn't much but—"

"It's perfect. Where will I be sleeping?" asked Harry, cocking his head slightly so he could smile up at the tall female, who at first seems startled by his action.

"Oh... it's upstairs, I can show you right beside mine, follow me," and Harry did, he followed her up the squeaking stairs and across the floorboards and into the third door down the hall, "Dad's working on getting you a desk and things, but for now he could only manage a dresser and bed. He hopes you like the mattress,"

He chuckled and stepped into the room, smiling at the plainness that it was. He plopped down onto the bed and gave a satisfied groan at his spine cracked—it was still cramped from being on the plane, "this is absolutely wonderful, so much better than that uncomfortable hospital bed they gave me,"

Harry patted the spot next to him, signaling for Bella to come join him. The teenager by the door shook her head with a smile and made her way over to the bed, she too plopped down and stared at the ceiling with the foreign man.

They stayed like that for the longest time, and then Bella decided to let her curiosities get the best of her, "What's it like… not remembering anything, I mean?"

"Oh," it startled the twenty-six year old, but his brows scrunched as he tried to think of a way to describe how it had been for him, "I can't really describe it, because I can't remember what it's like to actually remember, if that makes any sense to you,"

Bella nodded, signaling that she understood his explanation somewhat, "You didn't even remember your best friends…?"

"I couldn't even remember who _I_ was," confessed the wizard, giving a sigh and closing his eyes to rid himself of the guilt that haunted for not being able to remember those who were supposed to be closest to him, "it's not something I feel comfortable talking about, the last year had been difficult. It involved a lot of tests and break-downs, but I pulled through..."

"That's good," whispered the brunette, "my father and I are really happy that you've come to stay with us. You may be a stranger… but we're still happy,"

"Well, that makes me feel a little better than before," Harry admitted, and then rolled to his side and propped his head up using his hand, "so when does your father get home, anyway?"

Bella shrugged, "I'm not sure, it depends on the reason he had to go to the station,"

This made Harry grin, "We should make him dinner, what do Americans eat?"

Bella roared with laughter. The two hurried downstairs and manage to find something to make for dinner. Together they cooked a meal for Charlie when he would get home.

ooOoo

Charlie had managed to get away from his overly emotional partner, who had been weeping over the simple fact that his wife had been in the hospital due to something completely minor. Driving on his way back, he shook his head in astonishment at the whole evening. He needed to have his partner call a shrink; the man had been completely stupid sometimes.

The chief of Police for the town of Forks had pulled into the driveway and noticed Bella's truck. He gave a thankful sigh hoping that everything went alright with their new guest.

With a dreadful sigh due to his very long and not-so-productive day, he drudged up to the door and opened it, keys jingling as he turned the handle and stepped through. He was greeted by warmth and the smell of spaghetti.

He was stunned when he stepped into the kitchen and heard the sound of laughter and conversation. One voice had been male, British, and the other had been Bella's. The sight made him smile when he saw his daughter leaning over a pot and stirring while being scolded by the short raven haired man.

"Oh, bloody hell, you've put far too many peppers in it," but his smile was evidence enough for Charlie to tell that the man was joking. The two of them had been a mess, their shirts strained with sauce and dirty dishes lay around the counters (which had been clean when Charlie left to the station earlier).

"Don't blame that one me, you're the one that told me to cut four," Bella accused, and then giggled when Harry lightly smacked her arm with a wooden spoon, and walked away from her while chuckling.

He stopped though and his eyes widened when he saw the man-in-uniform standing in the arched doorway of the kitchen. The obviousness of who the man had been was enough for Harry to beam and rush over to shake the man's hand, "Mr. Swan, it's a pleasure to meet you. Bella and I decided to make supper tonight,"

Charlie shook Harry's hand in return, "Nice to meet you, and please, call me Charlie."

"Right. I hope you like spaghetti then, Charlie," and with that the British man turned on his heel and began to set the table for the three of them. Charlie sat down, exhausted from his long day of work, Harry continued to smile; "I can't begin to thank you enough for letting me stay here."

"Don't worry about it, any friend of Hermione's is a friend of ours," smiled the older man.

Bella set the steaming pot onto the table and dished a serving onto each plate on the table. She and Harry sat down to join the hardworking father, and they all ate their meal. Charlie had explained the situation about his friend, and Harry listened intently, along with Bella who seemed to be enjoying the spaghetti a bit too much.

Harry concluded that the Swans were nice people, and he couldn't be any luckier to have been able to come and stay with them for a while. Charlie even invited Harry to join them on Sunday for the game—of course Harry explained that he didn't have a clue about sports, but Charlie insisted that he would explain to the young adult how everything worked.

Bella rambled on about her favorite team, and Harry sat and pretended he understood a word she had been saying, when in all reality he didn't have a clue about this sport called… _baseball_. He couldn't even remember the sport Quidditch when Ron had tried to talk to him about the World Cup.

When they were done eating, Harry claimed that he was going to get some sleep since it had been so late (the spent nearly all night talking about little things). Charlie nodded and suggested that Bella head up to bed too. When Harry entered his room he closed the door behind him and hadn't bothered changing into comfortable clothes as he crawled under the white blankets that Charlie gifted him and he drifted to sleep.

Before he woke up the next morning and image flashed across his mind, the image of a cupboard under stairs. He couldn't explain what it meant, nor could he explain what it had been. He shrugged and drifted back to sleep. As he drifted once more into the darkness that had been sleep, he couldn't help but think that the cupboard had been something important.

* * *

_Could Harry have remembered the cupboard under the stairs? Could this be a slow start to his memory returning? WILL his memory ever completely return? Stay tuned, and maybe you'll see._

_And how will Harry's first meeting with the Cullens go? I hope you enjoyed this chapter, which I wrote to explain how Harry settles in with the Swans. His relationship with them will improve greatly throughout the story, and more is to come in chapter three… much more! x_


	3. Chapter 3

**Oh, you are all very lovely and beautiful—I hope you know that. Thank you ever so much for reviewing. I certainly do love you, and yes… I do mean in a creeper/stalker way, get over it.**

**ALSO: **someone had mentioned that Harry was twenty-six and Edward was 17, and how things are going to be worked out like that—let me firstly state that Edward is 17 in his looks (which, 17 is an adult enough look for me), and while Harry is 26, his life at the Dursley's leaves him short and thin… so he looks like a teenager himself, regardless of his natural age. Edward is still technically older than him though and far much experienced, given that Edward is a vampire.

Please enjoy the next chapter, things shall speed up from here on out with Harry and such.

For those who might be interested, the theme song to this story is officially "Love Alone by _Thriving Ivory" __**please enjoy this chapter**__!_

Chapter Three

**Hope**—is the emotional state which promotes the belief in a positive outcome related to events and circumstances in one's life.

_So common sense only allows us to know that the opposite of hope is __**despair.**_

The first couple of weeks with the Swans had deemed rather nice. But school would be starting for his newly made best friend, Bella, today—and he wondered how this would change things.

"Hey, what're you reading?" Bella tapped her knuckles on the door frame of her newest friend's bedroom; she stepped into the room and sat beside the Englishman, her eyes glancing down to the book in his hands.

"I found it downstairs in that old bookshelf; it's a book made up of Edgar Allan Poe's greatest work," answered the man, snapping the large book with a 'snap' and then looked to Bella with a sheepish grin, "Why are you so dressed up for?

"School," Bella answered with a shrug, "First day at a new school, I'm a bit nervous,"

Harry placed his hand on her shoulder, "You'll be fine, and if anyone gives you any trouble I'll deal with them,"

"You can't even hurt a fly," Bella said sarcastically with a hint of amusement, "what're you going to do?"

"Flies are different, Bells, they're so innocent and do us no harm… But humans? Now that's a different story for another day." Harry noticed his friends nervous frown, and he sighed, "You're brilliant, Bella, you'll be alright. You have me to look forward to after school anyway, so why're you so shaken about it?"

"I'm not _'shaken'_ about it," Bella denied, "I'll see you after school, try not to get yourself into too much trouble while I'm away. Dad says it's going to be another late night, so it'll probably just be me and you for dinner,"

They both stood and Harry gave Bella a quick hug, "Good luck,"

"I'll need it, see ya'," and with that, Bella left in her rusted truck that sputtered and groaned as she pulled away from the home. Harry watched through his window with a small smile and then returned to his collection of poems and picked up from where he left off.

His day consisted of eating a sandwich for lunch, reading his poems, and watching muggle television.

Later that afternoon he eagerly awaited for Bella's return, without someone else in the house it proved to be far more lonely and quiet than he preferred.

His head popped up at the sound of the front doors hinges squeaking and he turned quickly as he sat on the sofa. He was grinning, impatient to see his friend. He frowned though when he saw her face, she looked troubled. She gave a sigh and didn't bother to look at Harry, instead she went straight for the stairs and up to her room.

Feeling concerned, Harry stalked after her. Her door had been slightly cracked but he knocked on it gently, causing it to open further, "Bella… is everything alright?"

"Yeah," she replied, pulling her biology book from her bag, and opening it on her bed, "Everything's fine. I've got a lot of homework to do, so could you leave me alone for a while?"

"Okay, sure thing," he still couldn't help but worry, what might have happened at school that upset her so much? He shook the thoughts and gently closed her door to give her the privacy that she wanted.

His brow creased,_ could it have been because of another student?_ He shook his head, no, who could ever upset Bella? She was nice and charming; whoever upset her obviously had a narrow mind.

Life continued like that, Bella continued to come home every day looking worse each time. It was like she had been drowning, and it confused Harry and he decided he wanted answers…

But when she came home this time she looked the complete opposite, "I don't understand why guys can't ever make up their stupid minds, one moment they want to be friends, the next you're like a fucking troll to them. God, Harry, I can't take it anymore—he's _so_ bipolar!"

Harry was shocked and surprised; he was sitting in the living room reading a collection of poems by Edgar Allan Poe once more, he closed the large collection-book and looked to his friend, "Huh? What're you going on about?"

"This guy at school!" exclaimed Bella, "First he avoids me as if I smell bad, or something, and then he tells me that we should be friends and does the stupidest thing with this apple… and then—then! Ugh, I just don't understand what his damn problem is, but it's driving me insane, Harry, it truly is!"

Harry stood, standing only slightly shorter than Bella, "Just calm down, I'm sure he had his reasons for acting the way he is… don't stress yourself out over it too much,"

"But that's the problem, Harry; I can't get him out of my head. Everywhere I look, he's there, every time I dream, he's there! It's impossible to get rid of him, it's so freaking annoying!" she said hurriedly, her chest heaving for oxygen once she was done.

"Alright, calm down,"

Bella shook her head, "It gets worse, Harry…"

"What gets worse?"

"_Him,"_ she groaned, flopping down onto the raven haired man's bed, "I'm sorry, you must be bored with all of my teenage drama… what've you been up to lately? We should go do something… it's been awhile since you've been out of the house,"

"I'll say," scoffed Harry, sitting next to her on the bed, "let's go to Port Angeles, get some ice cream and get some fresh air. I've wanted to go back; they have this book store there that I wanted to check out… Since I don't have anything else to do, I've been reading a lot lately,"

Bella smiled and jumped up, "alright, we'll take my truck, c'mon,"

Harry grinned and followed after his friend and to her truck, where they drove to Port Angeles.

"So," Harry began as they received their ice-cream inside the parlor and found a booth to sit down at, "this boy you were telling me about, do you like him or something?"

"Well… I hardly know him, but it's still nerve wrecking, you know?" Bella explained, licking her two-scoop cone, "One minute he's talking to me, wanting to be friends, next he's telling me to stay away from him because he's too dangerous,"

Harry nodded, "is he handsome?"

"What?" Bella choked, blushing a tint of pink "why does that matter?"

He shrugged, "I was only wondering, he must be a looker to have you this worked up,"

"He doesn't have me _'worked up'_, he's just an ass," grumbled Bella in denial.

This only made Harry chuckle, "I take that as a yes then, he's a looker?"

"Yes, Damnit," Bella pouted and rested her head on the cold surface of the ice-cream parlor's table.

The wizard across from her grinned widely, "Ooh, then my suspicion is right, you've got a crush,"

"I don't have a crush; don't be ridiculous, I hardly know him. We've spoke twice and that's it, he just pisses me off, that's all," the teenager muttered, "I want to choke him, I swear. His sister's nice, though, so that counts for something,"

"Sister?" asked Harry, raising an eyebrow.

Bella shook her head, "Yeah. Two sisters and two brothers,"

"Hm," Harry said blandly, "alright, let's head over to that book store,"

Nodding in agreement Bella stood alongside her friend and they left the parlor. They didn't bother driving, because it was only a few blocks away. When they reached the small corner store and opened the door a group of tall and tan boys had been leaving just as they were entering.

One smiled at Bella, "Hey, Bells, how's it going?"

Harry looked between the two, wondering if this had been the boy she was talking about. She smiled and replied, "Hey, Jake. Nothing much really, what're you doing here?"

"Returning a few books I needed for a project at school," the boy had a wide and sparkling smile, and his group of look-a-like friends had left the store and went outside to talk amongst themselves. Harry watched them briefly, the boys had been shoving each other and wrestling playfully, "who's your friend?"

Harry looked away from the group of boys outside and up to the tall and rather wide boy in front of him, "I'm Harry Potter, the guy that's staying with Bella and Charlie… if she hasn't told you yet,"

"It's nice to meet you, finally, Bella's told me great things about you… and not so good…"

_So if this wasn't the boy she was talking about, who was?..._

A small glare was sent to Bella who sheepishly smiled as an apology, "You're Jake, right? The kid who fixed her truck,"

"The one and only, I'm good with my hands," he joked.

Bella rolled her eyes, "He had a bit of an ego problem, just ignore it,"

"How old are you, exactly?" asked Harry curiously.

"Fifteen," answered Jacob honestly, and somehow proudly, "Bella tells me you're twenty-four?"

"Six, I'm twenty-six, but I'm flattered I can pass as twenty-four," Harry corrected.

"You could pass as my age, with how little you are,"

"I'm not little," pouted Harry.

Suddenly an image passed through his mind, _a large boy, overweight and smug looking, he was pointing and laughing... he was towering over Harry. The huge boy's lips were moving, but nothing was coming out. _The vision went away and Harry couldn't help but be baffled, _what the bloody hell...? _

Bella smiled at her friends, "Alright, I don't want to hold you up, I'll see you this Friday down at the beach," she told the large teenager, and they exchanged hugs and he left with a small goodbye to Harry, who returned it with a curt nod.

"That boy's huge, mind telling me what he's eating?" teased Harry, though apart of him had been serious.

"Obviously more than you've ever eaten, you're a walking stick,"

"I am not! I'm _perfectly proportioned_!" defended Harry, folding his arms.

Bella grinned widely, "Oh is that what they're calling it now?"

"Shut up and find a damn book to read," Harry muttered.

Bella seemed a bit distant as she looked through the books, her mind scanning the past memories of Edward Cullen and her encounters with the boy. She left out crucial information when explaining things to Harry, but she couldn't speak about it without being sure, her suspicion of the other teenager had been a bit far-fetched after all…

Harry found plenty of poetry that he may like, and a few novels by a muggle man named Stephen King, after he had about ten books stacked in his hand he went to Bella and told her that he was ready. They went up to the counter; the books had been a quarter a piece.

Harry pulled five dollars from his pocket, money that had been converted from his inheritance Gringotts to an American bank. He gave the bill to the annoyed looking woman and told her to keep the change—also paying for Bella's book.

As they left the store, their books put into bags for easier carrying, "We should get you an American license… and maybe a job so that you're not spending your whole day stuck in the house,"

"_Job_?" said Harry, the word foreign to his vocabulary, "I don't know if I could handle a job,"

"'Course you can, it'd be something small though… minimum wage, but it's better than sitting at home all day with nothing but _reading_ to do," Bella explained.

"Alright, but what do you suggest for me to _work_?" asked Harry with a curious look, "no one will accept a mentally damaged employee, Bella, I'm the last person they'd pick…"

"That isn't true, just because you can't _remember_ doesn't mean you're not capable of a job, besides this is America, no one cares here," the brunette joked, which caused Harry to snicker and agree.

They went home and made supper; Harry waited up for Charlie and sat with him at the dinner table to allow the elder man to ramble about his hard day of work. Harry knew the man probably wouldn't enjoy coming home to a quiet and sleeping house so he usually stayed up and waited for him so that the chief of police had at least _someone_ to come home and talk to.

Harry retired to bed, taking his newly bought books with him and bid Charlie good night. The next morning he woke up and hugged Bella goodbye as she went to school, she looked determined about something… but Harry decided that it wouldn't be best to bother her with questions and let her go.

Curiosity so desperately got the best of him later that afternoon though, and before Bella got home he decided to see what book she had bought at the store yesterday in Port Angeles. It didn't take long for him to find it, and he didn't need to worry about being caught snooping because Mr. Swan was at the station and Bella had been at school…

He felt guilty for being so sneaky, and doing it behind Bella's back like this, but he was Harry Potter—he was damned curious and his natural instinct to investigate and get himself into trouble was overpowering.

He picked the book up from under her pillow and raised a curious brow when he saw the title…

_Quileute legends._

He sat slowly on her bed, adjusting himself to be setting cross-legged. He opened the fragile book slowly and scrunched his books a bit more, _Quileute_? He read on though, his eyes scanning the pages and he wondered why Bella would be interested in some silly old legend about Indians and wolves that used to reside on the reservation… but something bothered him about this legend, the talk of _cold ones_, and a treaty that had been made.

Snapping the book shut in defeat, he stuffed it back under the covers even more curious and confused than he'd been before he came to snoop. Just as he rounded her bed and went to leave, he saw Bella's opened laptop from the corner of his eye…

_No, don't do it Harry, that's a complete invasion of privacy. Bella's your friend for Christ's sake,_ thought the conflicting man, _I'll just have a quick look, and if there isn't anything interesting I'll leave immediately._

He slowly, as if afraid someone would hear him, crept to the muggle device and sat down at the desk. He gave a quick sigh, not wanting to be any louder than he had to be (which was silly because no one could ever possibly hear him anyway). He remembered how to use one of these from a muggle TV show that he watched the other day. He grabbed the glowing mouse and shook it gently.

The screen became bright as the darkness faded away. The webpage that had been opened made Harry feel even more alarmed, there were several tabs open, each with keywords labeled _vampire, cold ones, night walkers, werewolves, shapeshifters, Indian tribe legends_.

His eyes flickered from the laptop screen to the lime green notepad that was sitting beside it. Beyond having any dignity left, Harry grabbed the book full of little side notes written in Bella's handwriting, he scanned through the many jotted down sentences. Finally, reaching the last page of the notebook, he felt himself go pale… in curly and quick handwriting he read the words _Conclusion:_ _He's a vampire._

Had this all been a simple project she was working on, or had this dealt with something far worse?

Then he remembered the words she told him yesterday when she came home from school upset about the boy who was giving her trouble,

_Bella shook her head, "It gets worse, Harry…"_

No. Harry shook his head, this was all far too silly—and Bella was simply overreacting. But then he thought about his she avoided telling him how he gets worse…

_Why wouldn't she tell me, if she thought this…? Oh, right, because who believes a teenager when they ramble on about vampires…_ Harry thought, pinching the bridge of his nose irritably. He gave a groan, vampires did exist, and this much Harry knew. During his stay at St. Mungo's he'd been taught and updated on plenty of things magical—this included vampires, and the dark vampires that Hermione and Ron hunted down as aurors.

The legends could be true, about the Quileute tribe, nothing was impossible after all.

He remembered another thing Bella told him, _"Next he's telling me to stay away from him because he's too dangerous,_"

This made Harry's emerald eyes snap open widely, _Shit, Bella!_

He stood quickly from the chair, causing it to fall over as he ran down the stairs (tripping a few times as he did so). He opened the door to the Swan house and slammed it shut as he ran down the sideway to _hopefully_ reach Forks High so he can talk to Bella about this. His _need_ to protect was pumping through him now, and somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he might simply be overreacting.

He reached the school and stopped. The students were flooding out of the school as a loud bell rang. They teenagers were laughing and carrying on, cheering that the day had been over. Harry's heart sunk, he scanned the large crowed as he searched for Bella…

He clutched his chest and gave a hoarse sigh. She was perfectly fine, talking with a girl and a few other kids who surrounded her. So she hadn't confronted anyone with her new discovery? What was it going to take then…?

Bella spotted him and ran over in worry, "Harry, what're you doing here?"

He flushed, "nothing! I mean… I was going for a run and happened to pass the school by as you were coming out. I decided to take your advice and get out of the house more," that had been a complete lie though.

"Oh," Bella accepted this, "I'm heading to Port Angeles with Jessica and Angela, they want to pick out dresses for homecoming. If dad comes home let him know where I'm at, I'll see you later,"

Harry nodded, panting heavily, "Okay, I'll see you later then,"

"Bye Harry, and make sure you drink water when you get home, you look exhausted,"

"Y-yeah, will do,"

Bella jogged back over to her friends and Harry continued to scan the school parkinglot.

His shifting eyes froze though when they saw topaz coloured orbs. Harry's heartbeat quickened, _who the hell…? _Then they topaz eyes were gone, and he was left watching a pale teenager climb into his muggle car (which look terribly expensive) and drive away.

Harry turned on his heal and began walking back to the house, something odd was going on, and Harry was going to get to the bottom of things, _and soon._

* * *

_There we have it, I hope this chapter was enjoyable... I feel it didn't live up to it's potential- but I hope you like the direction everything is going in. Harry is a very nosy man, isn't he? Invading business he shouldn't mingle with. Anyway, the next chapter will bring the whole situation with Bella admitting to Edward that she knows what he is, and how will Harry react when he gets fed up with Bella keeping things a secret from him. Don't worry, Edward/Harry will be arriving soon- but not _too_ soon. enjoy, x_

_next chapter I'll bring more to the table. ;) x_


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello beautiful readers, I'm glad you like this story thus far. Have fun reading the new chapter, and have a wonderful day/evening. **

REVIEW REPLIES:

**Vampmuffin**: Thanks for liking the way I've written Harry. I don't like making Bella a complete evil-bitch when I write her, and sometimes people don't like that.

_(a/n: In my opinion a writer should be able to morph the story so that they don't need to get rid of her as a character, why go through the trouble to write her as something she isn't? Hell, as a writer you should take pride in making Bella's character something more than what it originally is in the books, am I right? To me, Bella has never come off as a bitch- she may not be the best of females- and she may be too dependent on a man, but she's a pretty tolerable person to me)._

**Little-bast**: Harry won't have an animagus in this story, sorry. I love your idea with the wood-carving, I might use it.

**Thank you, to everyone whom has reviewed/alerted/added to favourites.**

_**ALSO, no worries- I will be pairing Bella up with someone later on in the future (she will be paired with a character from HP, but that information is being kept secret for added suspense)**_

Chapter Four

_**Vindicate **__– to prove someone's innocence, to justify one's actions._

_So paint me red-handed and call me guilty. _

"Harry, I've checked all records here at the ministry, there aren't any records proving there are vampires in Washington," Hermione said matter-of-factly,

"Are you sure? There's nothing, absolutely _nothing?_ Hermione, I could have sworn…" Harry rubbed his forehead in frustration; he could feel himself gaining a headache.

There was a hesitated breath from the female witch as the two wizards spoke to each other using muggle telephones. Hermione had been standing in a phone booth while Harry used the Swan's home phone, "But it's only Bella's paranoid suspicions, and you could've just been seeing things,"

"I may be magically dormant, but that doesn't make me visually impaired,"

"Alright, so let's just _say_ there are vampires living in Forks, that doesn't make them harmful," Hermione explained, "It's the perfect place, hardly ever sunny, and small,"

Harry groaned and sat at the dining table in the kitchen, "I can't help but get the feeling that something horrible is going to happen,"

"You're just paranoid-"

Harry sighed loudly, the annoyance he felt towards his best friend was excruciating, "You're right. I need more sleep, and I should probably take Bella's advice and find something to do during the day, get my mind off things that are unimportant,"

"I'm sorry, Harry," Hermione frowned, knowing the man had been annoyed and frustrated now.

He shook his head, "Don't worry about it. Send Ron my love,"

Without giving a chance for Hermione to reply he pulled the Swan's phone from his ear and slapped it down onto the receiver. His brow scrunched as he placed his elbows into the kitchen table and rested his head in the palms of his hands, _why the bloody hell do things need to get so complicated? Everything was going so great…_

Groaning once more he rested his cheek onto the mahogany top and closed his eyes. He felt extremely exhausted, but that might have been because he just got done running to Bella's silly muggle school and back.

The sound of the front door shutting pulled him back to reality and he looked up to see Bella, she smiled slightly at him, looking a bit shaken, and then proceeded upstairs claiming she needed to finish biology homework or whatever class, Harry could never remember.

_Alright, Harry, _the middle-aged man thought to himself, _you haven't got magic, but you've got eyes. What was wrong about the image just then?_ He looked with a serious expression, hardly blinking, _she was pale, as if something shocked her and she was shivering- but it isn't _that _freezing out_… Shaking his head, feeling there hadn't been any significance to what he just put together, he followed after Bella and into his own room to sleep.

"_Kill the spare," _

With a gasp Harry shot up from his bed, brow damp with sweat and clothes drenched. He clutched his racing heart in attempts to slow it down as he breathed heavily. Those words were so scarily familiar, and it itched at the edges of Harry's mind what they had meant and who said them.

Clutching his head in discomfort he plopped back down onto the bed with another breath, just words, that's all they were. No visions, pictures, dreams- nothing. Harry's eyes shifted to the window and he froze. He blinked and then rubbed his emerald eyes. There was a boy, watching him—or so he thought because when he looked again, no one was there.

_I could have sworn I saw… no, that's not possible._

He stared at the ceiling, finding no motivation to go back to sleep.

ooOoo

"Edward, either my mind is playing tricks on me or…" Alice began, watching as the short boy ran in the opposite direction of Bella Swan. She glanced between the retreating boy to her brother, "That isn't?"

"I don't know… but don't worry about it," Edward grumbled and climbed into his Volvo, ignoring his sister's look of disapproval for blowing her off.

Jasper stood beside the pixie-vampire, "Do I need to explain his emotions to you, or was it obvious enough?"

"I thought you had a vision of that human girl," asked Rosalie with a distasteful tone, "If that _guy_ is Edward's… well, you know… then what happens to her?"

Alice squeezed her topaz eyes shut and gave a long and soft exhalation, "Nothing good, Edward becomes conflicted between the pull he has for his mate and the _need_ to protect Bella,"

"But he ends up with that guy, right?" asks Emmett from beside Rosalie, a question everyone else had wanted to ask.

Alice shrugged, "I'm unsure. I'll tell you more when my visions are updated, but right now we need to worry about Edward,"

They nodded, and followed after Edward in their own vehicles.

Edward had arrived to the Cullen home before the rest of his siblings and isolated himself from Esme, thankfully he didn't have to avoid Carlisle (he worked late at the hospital most nights).

Something about Bella sparked his interest, when he saw her he felt contentment. Today though, when he saw that, _that man_, his whole chest exploded. Millions of unknown emotions flooded over him and he couldn't contain himself—jumping across that parking lot and attacking the smaller male was all he could think about—of course he was able to keep himself under control thanks to Jasper.

"Edward, sweetheart, are you alright? Alice told me about what happened," Esme asked from the other side of his closed door, "I just wanted to check up on you,"

"I'm fine, Esme. I've got homework to finish, could you ask the others not to bother me for the rest of the night?" asked the bronze haired vampire, his face sunken as he paced the room.

There was a shift, "alright," and Esme was gone.

Edward looked from the floor of his room to the wooded area surrounding the house. His thoughts traveled back to after school when he overheard Bella talking. She would be going to Port Angeles with Jessica Stanley. He sighed and grabbed his things; he had a bad feeling in the pit of his unmoving chest. He left the house and went to his Volvo. It wasn't like he was spying or anything, just making sure she was okay.

Even so, his mind wouldn't stop going back to that emerald-eyed stranger.

ooOoo

The week soon came to an end, and darkness had already been approaching on Saturday when Bella went to ask Harry a question.

"Harry, it's Saturday, we should do something fun," said Bella, walking into the man's room as he continued to read a book from his slowly rising collection.

Harry placed the book on his lap as he sat cross-legged on the messy bed; he raised an eyebrow and looked to the teenager, "Oh? And what exactly do you define as _fun_, Miss Swan?"

Bella rolled her eyes and gave a small snort, "Not much around here to be classified as fun. We could go to the beach in Pa Push, Jacob said he'd be there today, you could properly meet him and the others, if you'd like,"

"_others?" _Harry pondered as he leaned closer.

"My friends from school are going to be there, and those boys we ran into when we went to Port Angeles," Bella went on to explain, saying she received a text message- _what the bloody hell is a text message? –_from Jessica and wanted to know if Harry would want to come with her.

"I haven't got much else to do, when will we be leaving?" asked the wizard, standing form the bed to rummage through the closet across the room where is few selection of clothes had been, "please tell me we won't be swimming in this weather?"

Bella snorted once more, "No, of course not. We'll probably start a fire, roast marshmallows, enjoy the evening. Dad says we don't have to be home too early because he's working another graveyard-shift,"

"Cool," Harry said earnestly, "So- as for my pervious question, when are we leaving?"

"Now, if you want to?"

Harry grinned widely and turned to the girl, "sounds perfect,"

ooOoo

"I'm Jessica, this is Mike, that's Eric, and this here is Angela," said a girl, a bit too close to Harry for his own comfort, "Bella's told us all about you, you're from London- right?"

"Huh? Oh yeah, yeah- I decided to move here for a change in scenery," answered Harry absently.

Angela looked at him with a cocked brow, "isn't London just as gloomy as Forks?"

"On most days," replied the short male, earning a few laughs from the teenagers he met only seconds ago. The beach had been deserted- rather small- except for the circled group of kids sitting around a small lit fire. He found himself becoming uncomfortable knowing he was at least nine years older than the others, but knowing that he at least _looked_ young he didn't feel so bad.

"Your accent is so awesome," Jessica gushed giddily and pulled him to sit down next to her on the log.

He looked to Bella with inquiring eyes, wondering if this were normal- Bella simply nodded and took a seat on the log diagonal from Harry because Angela. Mike was lounging on the cold sand while Eric was standing- brushing the feet with his sandaled feet.

"Uhm, thanks. It's nice to meet you lot, Bella speaks highly of you too," replied the rough-looking twenty-six year old.

Angela gave a knowing look to Bella, and nudged her, "So Bells, mind telling us what _that_ was on Friday?"

Harry looked confusedly between Angela and Bella, who flushed and gave a shrug, "I don't know what you're talking about,"

Mike gave a bark of laughter and shifted, pointing an accusing finger to Bella, "Bullshit, you were getting a ride to school from the infamous Edward Cullen. Dish the details, girl, now,"

"I never took you for the nosey type, Mike," Bella scowled with a bothered expression.

Harry's head turned between the two teenagers, Mike continued with a sheepish shrug, "It isn't every day someone gets a ride to school from Edward Cullen, it must've been a pretty good reason,"

"It's obvious, isn't it?" Jessica said in a snotty voice and Harry neck jerked with a crack to look at the girl beside him. He brought his hand to rub at his neck with a hiss, Jessica seemed not to notice, "they're obviously dating, right Bella? Edward's finally found a girl good enough for him, I suppose,"

"We aren't… we aren't dating," Bella said as she flushed a brighter shade of red, "he wants to be my friend, that's all,"

"Even so, it's still unlikely for any of the Cullen's to _make friends_," Eric piped up with a sense of sanity.

Harry couldn't begin to explain how puzzled he was, "I'm sorry, but what _exactly_ are you talking about?"

Angela looked to Harry, "Bella hasn't told you her encounters with the enigmatic family?"

_That boy! How the bloody hell could I forget?_ "Oh," Harry said, the information clicking, "So, how long _exactly_ have the Cullens lived here?"

The group looked at him, wondering why he'd ask such a question out of the blue like that. Jessica answered for him as she grabbed the bag of marshmallows in front of Mike and began to roast one, "Well, I'd say it was sophomore year,"

"How many siblings does this _Edward_ have?" asked Harry, his eyes showing a bit of his eager suspicion.

Bella replied, which caused Harry to look to his right to the brunette, "What's with all the questions, Harry?"

He shrugged, trying to ground himself, "I'm just curious about the people who live in the wonderful town of Forks, that's all,"

"He has four, two sisters and two brothers," Jessica answered him, her eyes focused on the flame surrounding her marshmallow, "apparently they're all adopted, and _together_,"

Bella looked far from pleased with Jessica- the tone of her voice far from pleasing towards the Cullen family, Harry noticed this too and found himself uneasy with it, "I see no problem with that,"

"Neither do I," Bella agreed with the ex-auror, "it's perfectly fine. In fact, I'm going over to their house for dinner sometime this week,"

Eric gave a playful look, "I thought you were just friends, now he's arranging dinner?"

This earned a laugh from Mike, "I think Bella's got herself a secret,"

"Oh please," Bella rolled her eyes, grabbing herself a marshmallow to roast, "Even if _I_ wanted to have a relationship with Edward, he certainly _doesn't_,"

"Why not?" Harry suddenly asked, "You're beautiful and charming, who wouldn't want you as their girlfriend?"

"My-my, someone's into the _younger_ girls, aren't they?" Mike just didn't know when to stop his foolish joking.

_If I could use my magic I'd hex your arrogant ass into the ocean right now,_ "hardly the case,"

Suddenly there was the sound of a howl, and the group turned into the direction that it came from. The same group of large boy's from when Harry and Bella visited Port Angeles had been walking towards them- Jacob, as Harry remembered- had his hands cupped around his mouth and gave another humanly howl.

"Jake!" Bella said happily as the group arrived and they ill-mannerly plopped themselves into the empty areas of sand, eagerly grabbing at the marshmallows and plopping them into their mouths.

"hey, 'sup Bells, good week?" asked the tan boy, sitting next to the log that Bella had been sitting on with Angela. His nose wrinkled a bit as if he smelled something weird and he gave Bella a puzzled glance.

Harry watched with bewilderment too, "Hello, Jacob, nice to see you again,"

Jacob looked from Bella to Harry and smiled in recognition, "Hey, Bella's friend, the one living with her- right? Nice to see you too,"

Bella pointed to each tanned boy, "That Paul, Embry, and that's Quill,"

With muffled voices Quill and Embry gave him a wave as they continued to devour the marshmallows.

"You're the talk of the town," says Paul, "you're from that London place, right?"

Harry gave him a dull look, practically asking _are you serious?_ "Yes," he decided he didn't want to bother with an explanation.

"So, does that mean you met the queen?" asks Embry, his voice distorted still from the gooey whiteness.

_They're serious. Aren't they? Bloody hell,_ "Never."

"That's boring," said the boy bluntly and then turned back to his marshmallow.

Jacob laughed and leaned towards Harry, "They're a bit stupid when there's food around, don't judge them too quickly,"

Harry smiled nonchalantly, "I'll be sure to embark in conversations with them when food is not present,"

"So Jake, have you heard? Bella's got herself a boyfriend?" Mike continues with his charade, which only makes Harry twitch with irritation.

Disappointment flashes briefly across Jacob's face and he looks to the girl who used to make mud-pies with him, "Ah, who's the lucky guy?"

Bella looked as if she wanted to slap Mike, "He isn't my boyfriend, and we're just _friends_, Mike, stop patronizing me,"

"Alright, fine. Either way it's shocking, I mean… you're friends with Edward-freaking-Cullen!"

Harry continued to simply watch the teenagers go on with their conversation, until he noticed the tan boys and their facial reactions to the name 'Cullen'. That was strange—and that's when something clicked, _the book that Bella bought… no, I should stop being silly, it's just a bloody legend. There are no vampires in Forks, Hermione even said so…_

Later on that evening things seemed to lighten up, the kids who went to school with Bella left and the only ones that remained had been Jacob and his friends, Bella and Harry.

Jacob seemed to be in a foul mood, ever since Mike made that comment about Bella and the Cullen boy he seemed to sulk and moodily retort to his friends.

Harry took extra note of this, either the boy had been upset that Bella hadn't seen her the same way he saw her, or he had something against Edward Cullen. Either way he knew things were uneasy, and Harry's auror side kept nagging at him to get to the bottom of things. The only problem was _how_ he'd get to the bottom of things.

ooOoo

The drive back to the Swan home was quiet until Harry decided to ask, "So, you weren't lying were you, when you said that you and the Cullen boy were just friends?"

"No," Bella said, looking to Harry shortly and then back to the slim road, "Even so, I would tell you the truth. Edward specifically told me he wanted to be friends with me, he said on day he'd tell me the reasons, but right now he doesn't want to explain _why_,"

"Do you like him, though, I mean as more than a friend?" it may have sounded pushy, but Bella didn't seem to mind.

She shook her head and gave a small shrug, "I thought I did, but the more information I found out about him only made me see him as a friend than _boyfriend_ material,"

"And…" Harry swallowed, "what _exactly_ was that 'information'?"

Bella flashed a sparkling grin, "Secrets should be kept, not told- I'm not Jessica after all,"

That only made Harry burn with frustration, why did everything have to be so goddamned secretive?

"Look," Bella said when she noticed Harry's face, "I'd honestly tell you if I could, but I think it's something that he should tell someone- not me,"

"No," Harry said, holding his hand, "I understand, you don't need to apologize or anything. It's just, I have this complex where I need to know ever little detail; it's something I acquired during my therapy back home,"

Bella gave a tangible laugh, "I get it, but I'm sure you'll find out soon enough, so don't worry,"

_Wait… what the hell does that mean?_ Harry didn't reply, he gaped at his friend for a few seconds and then turned his head to watch the darkness of trees pass him by.

When they pulled into the driveway, they entered the dark home and went upstairs- tired from their late night out with friends. Bella wished Harry a goodnight's sleep and Harry returned it.

ooOoo

"_I'll go with you," whimpered Hermione, rushing up to wrap her arms around Harry, the feeling of the embrace brought a deep sorrow and harsh feeling of protectiveness that he wished he never felt- because in that moment he wished he didn't have to go._

Another dream… His eyes fluttered open and his seethed when he felt a sharp pain cross his head. _What the hell was that?_ He asked himself, unsure of what the dream was about or what was going on. He shook his head, these images and dreams weren't normal and he needed to talk to Hermione about them, _soon._

He glanced to the blinking alarm clock beside his bed; it wasn't even three in the morning yet. He gave another sigh and blinked once more- he wasn't tired anymore, _brilliant_.

A shuffled noise grasped his attention and he looked to the other side of the room- his eyes squinted and then widened.

On the other side of the room, in the darkness of the shadowed walls had been a pair of glowing topaz eyes. _What the bloody fuck?_

He instantly threw the covers from his body and reached for something- anything- and ended up grabbing a book laying on the nightstand.

"Who are you?" Harry ground out, his tone hardly friendly.

A gust of wind blew in from the window and caused him to cover his face from the sharp graze it gave. He quickly brought his arm from his face and blinked rapidly. _Darkness. Nothing._ Whatever it had been across the room peering at him had been gone—but Harry wasn't stupid. Someone was watching him just now, just like the days previous, and he wasn't going to let them get away with it.

Without worrying about putting sneakers on, or grabbing a jacket he rushed down the stairs of the house, his make-shift weapon (the useless book) still grasped firmly in his hands as he stumbled out of the front door and into the cold front yard. He ran to the road, the pebbled rocks digging into his bare feet as he looked around swiftly for the culprit who had been spying on him.

"Don't be a coward," whispered Harry into the empty air, but he received no reply.

* * *

_Next chapter Bella and Harry run into Edward on their trip for breakfast Sunday morning—surely things can't go well, could they? Or perhaps things go pretty good- either way—Edward's one step closer to knowing all about _who_ Harry is exactly. x_


End file.
